Coutelier
by Ardwynna Morrigu
Summary: The victorious Lord Sephiroth takes a captive girl from the dungeons to serve his needs. Now he struggles to learn her secrets while keeping her from learning his. Medieval Fantasy AU; AeriSeph.
1. Knife

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VII is the property of Square-Enix. No profit is sought from this work.

**Notes:** A love story told in fragments in a Medieval Fantasy AU.

**Coutelier**

**Knife**

"Well done, Sir Sephiroth," the young prince commended.

Sephiroth spared the younger Shinra a glance only because he wondered what fit of perversity had brought the prince down to the dungeons. True, the upper tunnels were well lit but the faint, far away howling belied the dank misery just beneath. Further down the hall, armor clinked and rattled as soldiers and guardsmen hauled the last of the day's conquests to the cells below.

"I do wonder," said the prince, "at your taking so many captives this time. There's hardly room enough for them all."

"Room enough in the mines," Sephiroth said as they rounded the corner, "or the fields or-" He slowed and watched a prisoner putting up a furious struggle with two guards.

Prince Rufus shot him an arch glare. "Or your bed?"

Sephiroth stared straight ahead because he could not safely glare at the prince. The guards had frozen where they stood though their grip on the prisoner did not falter. She tossed her head to get a mass of untidy curls out of her eyes. Eyes that were dark green and strikingly furious.

Sephiroth let his eyes rove once down her form and smirked at the prince. "Exactly so." He turned to the guards. "Have this one taken to my quarters. Unharmed, preferably, but see that she doesn't escape."

The girl went instantly pale then flushed as her high fury returned, but the guards hauled her away before she could spit at anyone.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I won't let you!" That, and angry eyes met him at the door. Sephiroth snorted his disdain and sat to strip off his leathers. The girl took a few steps back. Sephiroth could tell she had something, one of his short practice weapons perhaps, hidden in the folds of her skirt.

"There was water," he said with a nod to the basin and ewer. "You could have washed."

"I'm not making this any easier for you!" the girl snapped.

"You certainly aren't," Sephiroth huffed. He pulled his thin shirt over his head without thinking, looking back over his shoulder when he heard the intake of breath. "Young lady, you couldn't stop me if I wanted to, and I don't. So why don't you just put that knife back where you found it and come eat something before you faint dead away?"

The girl twitched and the hilt of the knife was just visible. Of course. It had to be that one. "Just put it back where it belongs," Sephiroth said. "It was a token from a lady much dearer to me than you."

"If she was so dear to you, why am I here where she is not?"

Irritating. The girl was irritating. But she'd serve tolerably well for that. Sephiroth approached slowly and lashed out, grabbing her wrist before she could blink. He had half a mind to send her back to the dungeons, or even wring her neck and be done with it, never mind green eyes.

There was more though. Up close, beneath the dirt of the raid and the soot of castle dungeons, there was something in the curve of her cheek, the slant of her nose, the tilt of her brow. Green eyes. Sephiroth straightened, drawing away even as he twisted the knife in her grasp, deftly disarming her. He caught a whiff of her beneath the blood and dirt and even that sent a fragment of memory too vivid to bear.

"I won't take you," he said eventually, "and I have no intention of harming you in any way. I have a proposition for you. You can sit and eat and listen or you can take your chances with the guards below."

It was unkind to threaten a maid so and Sephiroth knew it, but it had the effect he needed. She inched closer to the table, eyes on him and skittish as a doe. She sat where he indicated and let him slide the laden tray over.

"Eat," he said.


	2. Fork

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VII is the property of Square-Enix. No profit is sought from this work.

**Notes:** This may be flashing the story along quickly and certain elements may not be too straight, but I did say fragments. ;) Thank you for all the kind words!

**Coutelier**

**Fork**

It was a full two days before Sephiroth called for maidservants to tend to her. The older women clucked and cooed and inquired how she had been while sharing their pointed glances over her head. Sir Sephiroth treated her well, she said, and they were inclined to agree for the lack of bruises on her. Small dainties arrived and the side room was furnished, if sparingly, for a lady's use.

It did not escape the notice of the court. Sir Sephiroth had finally taken a mistress and all waited to see what would become of it. The man was mad with passion, they whispered, struck from above, his eyes blazing brighter, his movements quicker. He'd certainly found himself something besides blood to distract him.

Three days more of maddening intrigue and Sephiroth called for a priest.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Would you like some of the wine?" he asked, coming up behind her. Aerith exhaled and turned away from the petal-strewn bed.

"Maiden's Peace, is it?" she asked and he nodded, scenting the herbs steeped in the bowl. Common enough bridal draft among the fine-born, meant to soothe nerves and ease the first night if a new husband forgot his strength. Aerith shook her head. "I'll go into this with my eyes wide open."

Sephiroth set the decanter down. "There'll be no need. I wouldn't touch you, I said." The girl didn't look as relieved as he thought she should.

"Won't there be questions when the chambermaid finds the bed untouched?"

Sephiroth picked up one stray petal from the sheets. "If we make a large enough mess of the place, there'll be nothing to ask."

Aerith laughed, the first time Sephiroth had heard it. It was shortlived, but bright.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He was never truly warm to her, though he was not cold. "Do you require assistance with the packing?"

"There's nothing much to pack," she said, and refilled his glass before the young page at his side could. She had slipped so easily into the role of an attentive lady, a little rough around the edges by nobles' estimation, but well-matched to his temperament. Somewhere, sometime, Sephiroth knew, he would have to step into his own role as well. A pampered and favored lady such as he'd let the world believe he considered her would doubtless be showered with trinkets and tokens of affection.

"Is there anything I should give you?"

Aerith turned, new green skirts twirling. "I beg your pardon?"

Sephiroth blinked. "I've arranged for your chambers at my holdings to be furnished as befits your position, but it may not fit your taste. Is there anything you would need?"

She smiled softly at him. "I'd have to see the place first, wouldn't I?"

"Ah, yes, I suppose." Sephiroth waited. "If there is anything you need, anything at all..."

"My Lord, I was raised a commoner," Aerith interrupted. "I've grown peas in with my roses and dug for vegetables in the red earth. I don't need to be coddled."

Sephiroth swallowed. "I didn't mean-"

"I know." She turned to the window, folding linens to place in the large chest. "You've done far more for me than any prisoner could expect, Sir Sephiroth. Please don't trouble yourself further on my behalf."

Sephiroth nodded once and turned to leave. The lie he had asked her to live for his sake weighed heavier with each step. At the door it stopped him completely. "The offer stands."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She did ask, eventually, while they were on their way to Junon. He had slowed his warbird enough to look in the carriage window. "Could I ride with you to the Keep and let the trunks come later? We're moving so slowly."

There was certainly some benefit to choosing a girl of more robust tastes than the over-delicate things at court. He halted the train only long enough to swing her sideways into the saddle before him and spurred Ifalnah home.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Is there a garden?" she asked as he led her through the grounds.

Sephiroth frowned. "There's land." It was fighting men and trained war beasts his holdings were known for, not daffodils.

"May I ask a corner to cultivate my roses, then?" she asked, and it pleased him in a way to see her growing more comfortable in the place. It would make this all so much easier.

"Plant your roses," he said, "and your peas."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They'd been at Junon Keep but half a season when he began to see the change. The trees beneath his window were greener and there were quick day blooms where there had been none before. The dark earth was dug up and moved around, pressed into place to serve his Lady's wishes. Not a day passed by that he did not see some part of his land freshly rooted up, still pressed into furrows by the tines of a fork.

One day on his training grounds, he caught three of the men-at-arms sparring in a corner to avoid treading on a rascally daisy in the center. Indoors, his staff, long given to silence, hummed about their work, though they remained discreet. His steward even offered his young daughter's services as a lady's maid. Sephiroth consented and tried to think no more of the woman's touch pervading his home.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He visited her at night. Her chambers adjoined his, and she was pleasant enough company. He'd begun teaching her to ride on one of the smallest birds in his stables. She was proving adept at running his household and assured him that if the maids gossiped it was no more than women's ways.

Beyond that, nothing much had changed between them. She never asked his reasons, never indicated any discomfort of her own. Only sometimes, late at night, when the candles had burned low, he thought he saw something he remembered in her face, in the dim orange glow. He always turned away, though he longed to ask. If it did not recall to him such a younger state of mind, perhaps, if his heart were not already sworn away, who knew what there might be between him and the one he had brought to his home as wife.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

One night she came to his room instead. "Please," she began, unaccustomed to more than a token pretense at actually asking his favor. "Please," her voice wavered and Sephiroth felt something tighten in him, sure she'd come to ask for what he was not sure he could give.

"Can you find my mother?"

Sephiroth blinked. He remembered eyes like hers, cheeks and lips, and being pressed into a warm bosom. He'd been little more than a babe then. Later, there'd been a girlish smile and a short blade pressed into his hands as he practiced at being the man he would become. Of course.

"Of course," he said out loud, and studiously went back to his reading.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"He's certainly taking his time about it. He can't be spending _all_ his vigor in the training grounds."

"Mayhap she's slow to catch. Might be to her own good. She's a tiny thing beside him yet."

"Aye, a bearing would be hard. Best let her reach her full bloom first."

"On with ye. Wait too long and she'll wither. We've waited long enough for his sons as it is."

Sephiroth went back the way he had come and pretended he had not heard. He retreated to his own quiet reading room overlooking the main entryway. There he settled in an old chair near the window and sighed. This was a problem indeed. Heirs were reason enough to wed, and now that he finally had, of course people would expect issue.

A tumult at the gate drew his attention away from a downward spiral of thought. Zack had returned.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Zack found Aerith exceedingly lovely and she doted on him in return. The hall was loud that night with ringing laughter from them both, and Sephiroth was both pained and relieved at the din.

"She's lovely, you lucky hound," Zack congratulated when Aerith had finally retired for the night. "Though you could have invited me to the wedding."

"There wasn't much time for it," Sephiroth murmured, absorbed in the way Zack cocked his head in interest.

"So I heard, but for all the rumor there was, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Sephiroth. The talk was you hurried the ceremony to cover a scandal and yet I find her slender as a reed."

It took a moment for Zack's meaning to sink in. "Ah," Sephiroth said and could say no more. It weighed heavily on him now, more so with Zack nearby.

"Cheer up, Sephiroth." Zack grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "Shouldn't take you too much longer, I'd bet." Sephiroth never blushed but he turned his face to the fire just in case.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sephiroth's holdings were extensive, well-guarded and safe. Aerith freely took to riding the wider trails alone, finding something new each time. The paths circled the wood and curled through it. She'd already taken the left fork before and the right was well-lit up with sunshine.

She rode alongside a stream a part of the way, till it joined the larger river that led her to an abandoned mill. The wheel still turned, if sluggishly, but the roof of the place had long vanished and the walls had begun to crumble.

Two chocobos stood tethered to a tree nearby, Sephiroth's own Ifalnah and the energetic one Zack lovingly called 'Featherhead'. Aerith slid off her bird and picked her way through the thickets to greet them.

She found a window before she found a door. Inside, Zack buzzed around, chattering at will, as was his way, oblivious to the look Sephiroth directed at his back, a look Aerith knew the meaning of, but had never seen Sephiroth cast her way.


	3. Spoon

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII is the property of Square-Enix. No profit is sought from this work.

**Coutelier**

**Spoon**

"So this is the shade of your love?"

The girl was more discerning than he'd thought. Sephiroth braced for censure and received only her thoughtful sigh. "It must be hard," she said, "to be always hiding."

Sephiroth held her gaze. "Are you not reviled by it?"

"Gaia cares not much where men cast their judgments," she answered, "or their affections," and she returned to tending her garden.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Zack was in love with Lady Aerith. It was a playful affair, carried out in the open in the courtly manner and utterly beyond reproach. He wrote poor sonnets and could barely tune a lute. They both laughed themselves sick at every poor turn of phrase. Sephiroth heard it all from his window and could not say which part hurt him more.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I'm not trying to steal him from you," Aerith insisted. "If he offers his heart to me the only way he can, it is because it was still his to give."

Sephiroth turned away, all feeling bleeding out of the wound her words had made. She put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it away.

Aerith turned away. "Perhaps he'd have given it to you if you'd let him know you wanted it."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Zack was young and for all the comforts the Keep offered, he chafed at the bit soon enough. Sephiroth gave him a quest to soothe his soul. Perhaps finding Aerith's mother would ease the situation for them all.

The leaves turned gold and fell without Zack there to see them. The harvest was brought in and the household settled in for a well-provisioned winter. Zack rode in on a still night through drifts of snow, clutching a rag to his side to staunch the red flow. Aerith tended him herself and wept as she did.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He floated on a green tide and reached for the fireflies above him. Further down he heard voices of all he'd loved who had gone before. It would not be long now. He wanted to see them.

A woman's voice, shaking with grief, cut through the night. "Not yet," she said, and brought him away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sephiroth rode to Lord Godo's lands with more fury than was good for the cause. His request was simple, but for the sake of pride Godo was inclined to be difficult. "She was among my portion of the spoils," he said. "Surely you don't mean to deprive me of my share."

"She's your washerwoman, not your bedwarmer," Sephiroth stated. "You'll find a replacement soon enough." Still, there was the matter of some recompense. Sephiroth had come prepared. "I have two of my own trained warbirds to be left at your disposal."

Godo made a show of pondering. "Two birds for a washerwoman. I'm not sure it quite meets the mark. The sheets have been ever so soft lately."

Sephiroth swallowed. "I am prepared to leave my own bird, Ifalnah, in your care." One for the other and well worth the price to have her back, her warmth, her eyes, the touch of the only mother he had ever known.

"Done!" Godo slammed his goblet to the table. Sephiroth was too numb to feel the loss.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The trade had been a sham and all his hopes for naught. The woman was not who he remembered though she was exactly who Aerith had wanted all along. Their reunion was tearful and warm. Aerith reassured Elmyra that she was well-treated and some work was found for the old biddy, who couldn't bear idleness.

Sephiroth tried to warm himself in Aerith's smile, even though she was not who he had thought after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"What's it like having a mother-in-law?" Zack asked, strong enough for light riding in the spring thaw.

"Aerith is happy," Sephiroth said, looping the reins on a branch. His new bird was black, well-trained as they all were, but lacking Ifalnah's spirit. He sighed and Zack pretended he had not heard.

"As long as she's happy," he said, "that's all you need."

Sephiroth grasped Zack's hand and pulled the young man close. "You're all I need."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Aerith knew something had changed between them. She read it in hurried gestures and a guilty glance. She pretended not to mind as she sat at her window, day after day, weaving and embroidering small linens for the babe she might never bear.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Elmyra was a good woman, Sephiroth had to admit. Tireless, industrious and not overly talkative. He began to grow accustomed to her and the more he did, the more he saw that something was wrong.

They did not match, mother and daughter, they did not match at all.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"She's gone," Aerith said when he asked, never raising her eyes from the loom. "Elmyra found me and raised me as her own."

"You should have told me," Sephiroth said. "There's no shame in being a foundling."

"There's death in being a witch," Aerith said, setting her needle aside. She closed her arms about herself. "That's what they said about my mother. They took her away and put her to the stake." She waited for Sephiroth's answer and gained only shifting shadows. "Will you have me burned too?"

For the first time since he had brought her to his home, Sephiroth stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. "You gave Zack back to me. There's no dark witchery in that."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When the gold leaves returned so did Ifalnah, with a note that though the beast would be ridden by none but his master, he'd done enough riding himself among the hens in the herd to have earned his keep all the same.

"Post Script," read the note, "You should have told me the old woman was your mother-in-law. For the sake of the racket that must cause in your household, I'd have let you have her back for free."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"If you can't choose, I will," Zack declared. "We can't continue like this."

"Can't we?" Aerith asked. "Gaia cares little for man's arbitrary rules of love. We all come knowing and willing to this. That's all that matters."

Sephiroth sat with his palms curled on his knees, silent, because his decision had been not to decide at all.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Zack settled under the covers and slid a hand down his lover's fire-lit skin. "It does work better than I thought it would."

Aerith pushed backwards to fit closer against him. "And this way Sephiroth gets the heirs he so badly needs."

Sephiroth put an arm around them both and sighed. "So you say, my Lady, but if the little ones turn out dark-haired, there's going to be talk."

-o-o-o-  
. FIN .  
-o-o-o-


End file.
